


First Christmas

by ebenflo



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas, Domestic Bliss, First Christmas, First Kiss, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Oneshot, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 01:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21420097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebenflo/pseuds/ebenflo
Summary: December 2039. It’s lightly snowing when Hank comes home. He frowns slightly and glances up at the little flakes tumbling down from the inky darkness and settling on his nose and eyelashes. The lights are on inside; Connor is home.
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor, Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 9
Kudos: 100





	First Christmas

December 2039. It’s lightly snowing when Hank comes home. He frowns slightly and glances up at the little flakes tumbling down from the inky darkness and settling on his nose and eyelashes. The lights are on inside; Connor is home. Hank brushes off the funny way his heart stutters as an arrhythmia, and the dull ache behind his breastbone as angina. They’re most certainly the perks of his old-as-fuck years and nothing to do with the sassy plastic prick who has somehow ended up being his lodger for the last twelve months. It was meant to be a temporary arrangement, but somehow Connor followed him home from the chicken van and well...the rest is history. These days the yard is cleaner, his beard neater and Connor has carved a niche for himself in Hank Anderson’s life.

As he approaches the front door Hank hears music. It isn’t his usual loud, angry metal. Nor the swinging jazz they both enjoy, although there is a saxophone involved. It takes a moment to register it as a Christmas carol. Something soft and intimate that reminds him of a time long ago. Hank swallows hard. There hasn’t been the sound of carols around his home since…Hank shakes his head. And well, Hank doesn’t think he even owns anything remotely of the sort. He tries to scowl but fails, wrenches the door open.

“Connor?”

His house smells different. Hank sniffs the warm air suspiciously. Sugar sweet and something else on top of that. Cinnamon, his brain supplies. And nutmeg. Why does his house smell like cinnamon and nutmeg?

He rounds the corner and is almost bowled over by an over-excited Sumo.

“Sumo, get down,” he growls, but engages in a brief tug of war over a toy the lumbering boof-head presents to him anyway. His attention distracted, it takes him a moment to look up, and when he does he almost keels over.

“Connor what the ever-loving fuck is THAT?”

“Hank you’re home!”

“Yeah great. You haven’t answered my question, what is that?” Hank stammers, pointing at the hulking, green thing in the corner.

“It’s a Christmas Tree!” Connor announces somewhat proudly. His arms are draped in what appears to be metres of string lights and lanterns. His pale nose is dusted with an even paler, finer substance that looks a hell of a lot like icing sugar. Hank has a full body shiver when he realises how much he wants to lean over and find out if it is. Using his mouth.

“I get that, but what’s it doing in our house?” 

Connor looks so crestfallen that Hank feels like a right bastard.

“My research of the season’s traditions has informed me this is a ritual many humans take great pleasure in during the month of December. Was I wrong, Lieutenant? I’m sorry if I was misinformed, I will take it down right away.” 

Hank finds himself speechless and Connor misinterprets the silence, starting to tug his limbs free of the decorations entangling him. A blue blush stains his cheeks. He's embarrassed, Hank realises with dismay.

“Connor- Connor wait.” Hank finds himself stepping forward and grabbing Connor’s slender wrist. Connor looks up at him, doe eyes bright and hopeful. Hank’s gaze drops to Connor’s nose and he finds himself unable to resist swiping his thumb over the very tip.

Connor watches agape as Hank licks his thumb.

“Lieutenant I-“

“Huh. So it is sugar,” Hank says in a soft gravelly voice he doesn’t quite recognise as his own. _Fond, _his brain supplies. “Connor were you baking for me?”

“M-my research says-”

“Yeah yeah, your research,” Hank says softly, unwinding Connor from the mess of cables. His hands haven’t stopped touching Connor since the moment he joined him by the tree. Last December had come and gone in a flurry of paperwork and procedure, treaties hastily drafted. Most people hadn’t been in the mood to celebrate. This here is their first Christmas.

Hank thinks he might cry; it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Your eyes Lieutenant…you’re crying.”

“Allergies,” Hank says gruffly, clearing his throat. He makes no effort to move away from Connor, his hand lightly grasping one slender shoulder.

“But your heart rate...Hank?”

“Just an arrhythmia,“ Hank argues, stepping closer to Connor until their bodies are flush. Connor lets out a soft gasp as Hank’s other hand cups his waist. 

“But Hank, your heart-“

“Is yours,” Hank says softly, marvelling in the simple joy of those words. It truly is Connor’s. Has been for a while now, if he’s at all honest with himself. Connor’s light whirs and flashes, soft blue. "And all of the rest of this too, broken as it is. All of it Connor, everything I am."

“I- I don’t know what to say.” Connor trembles in his arms and Hank has never seen the other look so lost for words. It’s an attractive look. 

"Then don’t,” Hank murmurs, before his lips seal Connor’s own, and there are no more words to be said.

**Author's Note:**

> My first work in this fandom but certainly not my last. I didn't mean to fall in love with these two idiots but they gave me no choice! Please, if you want to see more, leave me a little <3


End file.
